Charcoal Rain
by Dream-Fuel
Summary: Ian Reed OC, discovers that he is a mutant while attending high school. He doesn't know where to go, or who to turn to. There are those out there that will try to take advantage of him. Will he follow along blindly? Or will he decide where he stands.
1. Why Me?

******X-Men, with its history, places, factions, technology, and characters are owned by Marvel. This is a fictional work created by me. Most of the characters and some of the locations within this story are my creations and owned by me. This work can not be used or copied without my explicit permission. Please leave a review with constructive criticism about the story, or ways to improve my writing style. Thank you and enjoy.**

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**Charcoal Rain takes place about a year and half before the events of the first X-Men movie. Some aspects of this story will be pulled from the comic books and animated shows. I will eventually lead to the events of the movies however.**

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_**"It has become evident that the primary lesson of the study of evolution is that all evolution is co evolution: every organism is evolving in tandem with the organisms around it."**_

**-Kevin Kelly**

Ian Reed sat at his dark brown wooden desk near the back of the classroom in his sixth hour trigonometry class. All the desks were the kind where one sat in from the left and were connected to the chair, which was usually orange in color. His teacher, Mr. Palmer, who was a rather large balding man in his fifties, was writing on a white board with a blue marker showing how to solve a rather difficult equation. The classroom was of decent size. The desks were arranged in several diagonal rows. Ian wasn't very interested however. It was Friday afternoon and he was busying himself by doodling in the margins of his notebook of a little spaceship fighter taking on some alien monster emerging from an asteroid. His thoughts were more set upon the coming summer. It was early May, there were only a few more weeks left of school.

Ian planned to hang out with his best friend Tony for most of it. Ian was seventeen, this was his senior year, and he wanted to enjoy the summer as much as he could before he started to attend classes at community college in the fall. Ian's mother didn't mind him staying over at friend's houses during the summer; she worked nights and spent most of the day sleeping. She was a single parent who put in about sixty hours a week at the hotel she worked at. He never knew who his father was; just that he disappeared shortly after he found out his mother was pregnant with him. Ian helped out with a small portion of the bills with the part time job he picked up last summer at a local pizza place. He planned to only work part time though while he was off from school, he had something to occupy him while he wasn't working.

Ian and his friend Tony played one of those massive online role playing games where they each chose a different class and battled creatures and opposing armies while searching for better armor and weapons. Tony liked to be the center of attention when he played, so he picked a barbarian class who dual wielded double headed axes. Ian preferred a support role and played as a cleric. Ian wanted to bring his laptop over to Tony's so they could play side by side and help each other progress through the many quests the game consisted of. Tony would only be graduating his junior year and he didn't have a job yet, so would be playing the game a lot in the upcoming months.

A girl named Holly that sat next to Ian in the class leaned over to look at his scribbling and whispered from his right. "Wow, I'm sure glad I never needed to copy your notes. You should be paying attention though. This will most likely be on the final."

Holly's hair was dark colored, she wore up in a pony tail,and she had vibrant blue eyes that sat behind the small metal framed glasses she wore. Ian had enjoyed sitting next to her greatly during the semester. She was very friendly and loved to make little jokes daily about the way Mr. Palmer dressed. Sometimes a black belt with brown shoes, or a navy brown jacket with black pants. He couldn't match if his life depended upon it.

Ian brushed his medium length auburn hair aside from his brown eyes and he looked up to the board as their teacher finished solving the equation. He turned back to Holly and smiled. "I'm not worried, math is one of my best subjects. I'm more concerned about History. I was never good at remembering the dates of things."

"Well I'll do the worrying for both of us then." She said and then went back to copying the board.

The bell rang that dismissed classes for the day. Ian quickly threw his belongings into his black and blue backpack and got up from the desk.

"Now please remember to do the problems I assigned at the beginning of class for Monday." Mr. Palmer said loudly over the other students who were clattering about getting their things together and engaging in conversations with each other over their plans for the weekend.

Ian looked down to Holly who was still writing notes in her notebook. He knew that she was giving herself less credit than she deserved. She was an excellent test taker. "Have a good weekend Holly, see you on Monday."

She waved her hand goodbye to him without looking up from her notebook. Ian made his way out of the classroom towards the other end of the school where his locker was. The halls were quite crowded, students everywhere were rushing about. Along the way, in one of the halls, he saw his friend Tony walking from the other direction. Tony had blonde hair, a pimply face, and was about six one in height. It was a few inches taller than Ian was and he had quite a bit more muscle as well. Tony gestured to him and Ian paused to see what he wanted.

"Yo, Ian. You want to come over tonight? My parents are supposed to go to the movies and to some other place, and my sister is out of town."

"Sounds good. I have to work till eight though, but I could come over after if that's still cool?"

Tony nodded. "Sure, just give me a call before you come over. Later man." He then made off towards one of the schools exit. He had to hurry to catch his bus before it left.

Ian continued on the way he was heading previously to another exit. His high school kept their lockers outside. His was located near the outside of the science department. As he made his way through the door the heat from outside washed over him. It was only in the mid nineties though, not too bad for Arizona. There were several white clouds making their way westward towards the horizon.

His high school's colors were blue and silver, so the main portion of the buildings were painted a bright grey with intricate lines coursing throughout that were painted blue . The lockers were maroon in color and were kept in a gated fenced off area that was locked up at night and the weekends. He walked down the row where his locker was and began to enter his combination by turning the small black knob back and forth.

Ian put two books from his backpack on a shelf inside. He looked down to the bottom of his locker and saw his white running shoes there. He was part of the school's track team which had kept him in decent shape over the past couple of years. He was still a little on scrawny side though. He had always wanted to lift weights but never had the time for it. Track was done for the year and Ian hadn't taken the shoes home yet. Ian's outfit usually consisted of black hiking boots, black shorts, and the numerous t-shirts he had that ranged from his favorite bands and t.v. shows. Ian turned his head slightly upon hearing footsteps that were coming up behind him.

"Hey Reed, I need to talk to you!"

Ian knew the voice. It was Aaron Gregory, an athletic pretty boy, and captain of the football team. He had blue eyes and blonde hair that he always kept short so it wouldn't hinder him in the sports he played. He had always been more brawn than brains, and he sounded like he was was extremely angry. Ian shut his locker door and turned around slowly while he responded. "Yes, what is it? I'm kinda in a hurry."

"If you're smart as you think you are you'd wipe that grin off your face. I saw you at lunch today. You were talking to Jennifer. Everyone knows better than to talk to her… she's my girl."

"Really? I heard the two of you had a falling out." Ian said coolly.

Aaron face was in a scowl and he started to clench his fists. People nearby at their own lockers heard the exchange of conversation and begin to crowd around to see what was going on.

Ian just wanted to get out of there so he wouldn't be late to his part time job, so he decided to change tactics. "Look Aaron, it won't happen again. It was really nothing. We were just talking about what we will be doing after graduation."

Ian tried to walk past Aaron but was unsuccessful doing so. Aaron grabbed onto his arm and turned Ian towards him. "I don't think so." Aaron then thrust his fist quickly that connected with Ian's stomach. There were several murmurs from the crowd around them, and even a few excited approvals.

The pain from the punch was intense. Ian was leaned over a bit clenching his stomach with his left arm where he was hit. Ian was never one to advocate fighting. He always thought that disagreement between two parties could easily be resolved with words. That plus the fact that Aaron was twice his size so there was little chance of him winning a fight with him. Ian looked up to Aaron's face. "Aaron, I don't want to fight you. Look, I'm hurt, you got your anger out, let's just drop it and be on our way."

Aaron shook his head and laughed once. "Reed, I haven't even started yet." Another punch was thrown that hit the side of Ian's face, causing him to fall to the ground on his knees. Aaron then brought his foot up swiftly and kicked him in the chest. It caused the wind to be knocked from his lungs and made him fall over on to his side. The crowed was cheering at this point, joyous over the pummeling of Ian.

Ian became furious. His body was throbbing all over with pain, a few of his teeth seem to have loosened, and he just didn't have the time for this. He thought quickly of his options and realized that Aaron's back was to the lockers. If he acted fast enough he could knock him into the lockers, take off and worry about all this crap later. After a few moments lying on the ground, his breathing finally returned to normal. He got up slowly and turned to Aaron. "I guess you're not leaving me much choice then." He said quietly and with discomfort.

"Now we're talking. I always thought you were a pussy, but everyone needs to man up sometime in their life. Not like you'll be able to even touch me though." Aaron jumped forward and playfully slapped Ian's cheek and stepped back again. "Come on Reed! Show me what you got." He held one fist near him and outstretched his other hand and gestured as if saying to attack.

Ian clenched his teeth charged forward yelling. "Just leave me the hell alone!" He pushed Aaron's chest with both his hands as hard as he could. Ian felt a strange sensation that seemed to be emitting from the palms of his hands. If he had to compare it to something, it was similar to when you opened a freezer door and the wave of coolness rushed over the front of you while the rest of your body remained warm. Also, he thought it was just his imagination that was playing a trick on him as well, but he could've sworn he saw some purplish color outlining his hands as they made contact with the front of Aaron's chest.

Aaron stumbled backwards hitting the lockers harder than Ian had intended and seemed to just collapse to the ground. Ian was about to turn and bolt out of the area when he heard the exclamation of someone that had leaned down by Aaron's side.

"He's not moving!" They had yelled.

"Someone go get the nurse." Someone else had said.

"The nurse? Someone call the police!" Another student added.

Ian was frozen with terror as he looked down to Aaron's limp body. Aaron's eyes were open wide, blinking every so often, and small moaning sounds were escaping from his open mouth.

A brown haired teenager that happen to be on the school's football team as well, approached the front of Ian, but stayed out of his reach. He looked terrified just being this close to him. "What the hell did you to him?" He screamed to Ian.

"I, I-" Ian couldn't find the words to answer. He didn't know what had happened. After a few moments he was finally able to speak again. "All I did was push him."

"You're one of those mutant freaks aren't you!" The teenager began looking around for some kind of weapon that he would be able to attack Ian with so he wouldn't have to physically to touch him.

"I didn't mean to do it…whatever I did." Ian wasn't sure what he actually did do. Would Aaron recover, or was he going to die? Ian stared down to his hands for a moment and then looked at all the students around him. They all quickly looked away when he tried to meet their eyes. He saw one of them pulling out their phone, most likely dialing the authorities. "I'm sorry." He said softly. Ian then ran off through the crowd. Those in his way quickly moved.

Ian sprinted to the bike rack located near the front of the school, found his silver speckled mountain bike, and quickly undid his lock. He walked his bike at a fast pace to the sidewalk by a traffic light. He wiped some blood that escaped the corner of his mouth along the way. He body ached with each step. He got onto his bike and quickly took off down the street towards the pizza buffet restaurant he worked at. As he was about a quarter mile away, he heard sirens not too far in the distance.

After a couple of minutes, a police car and an ambulance went down the road the opposite direction that Ian was peddling. He did his best to not look suspicious and hoped that no one had given them a physical description of him. He didn't really have a plan of what he should do. He just wanted to get to work so he could spend some time thinking about his options. It was unlikely that if the police were looking for him that they would know where he worked.

As he rode onwards, he thought about that terrible word that the player from the football team had called him, mutant. He supposed that was what he was now. Why out of everyone he knew, did this have to happen to him? He had seen stories on the news previously about the increase of mutants in the human population all over the world. The crazy, unimaginable things they could do, or do to others. They were feared and discriminated against. Ian had never given a second thought about it when he was just a human. Was he still human, or something else entirely now. He certainly didn't feel any different. He had to admit though, if he had seen a mutant up close, he would probably be afraid. Of what, he had no idea. They were just different. He was different, now.

Ian coasted a bit with one hand on his handlebar while he held the other in front of him. He stared curiously at it. Everything seemed ordinary now. He didn't sense that cooling feeling he felt earlier, nor was there any of that purplish color that he had witnessed as well. He put his hand back to the handlebar and turned into the shopping complex that held the pizza restaurant. It also had a grocery store, comic book store, and a frozen yogurt parlor. The buildings all had flat rooftops with reddish tiled awnings and were painted with different shades of beige and brown.

As Ian rode through the shopping complex, he could almost feel the stares of people he passed by, as if they somehow knew what he was now. He advanced to the alley behind the buildings where deliveries were made and trash was collected from dumpsters. Ian kept his bike secured back here while he worked.

Ian got off from his bike and locked it up to a gas pipe that protruded from the ground and attached to the rear of the restaurant. He walked over to the back door. It was grey and had a small window midway up where employees could verify who was standing there. Ian pressed a small silver button to the right of the door, and waited until someone allowed him entry.


	2. Coming Out Of The Mutant Closet

_**"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves****."**_

**-François Duc de La Rochefoucauld**

Ian waited patiently until someone was able to let him in the restaurant. He kept glancing around nervously down each side of the alley, looking for who or what, he wasn't sure. He told himself he was just being paranoid though. No one was following him. Vanessa, the assistant manager of the place, finally came to the door to let him in. Vanessa was in her mid-twenties and was about half a foot shorter than Ian. She had brown eyes and straight brunette hair which fell upon her shoulders. She had been working here at the restaurant for a few years, and actually was one of the two managers that interviewed him for a position here.

"Hey Ian, running a little late I see." She had a smile across her face while she held the door open for him as he walked through.

Ian quickly thought of an excuse. "Yeah, one of my teachers wanted to speak with me after class. Sorry, it won't happen again."

"Don't worry," she said closing the door behind them, "we aren't too busy yet, but dinner rush will be here soon though. You'll be in the kitchen tonight, toppings station, so go get ready."

"Thanks for understanding Vanessa."

Ian quickly made his way to the employee bathroom which was located next to the manager's office. It was a unisex bathroom and the wooden door was covered by a bunch of random stickers placed by one of the employees that usually closed at night. The management didn't mind though, they thought it made the bleak food industry atmosphere more positive. The restaurant was actually a family owned business. They had several locations throughout the city of Mesa. Ian's favorite sticker was one a smiling chimp sitting under a palm tree on a very small island beach drinking from a coconut in held in one hand, and the other was giving thumbs up gesture to whoever looked at it.

Seeing the sticker usually always made Ian smile, but not today. He entered the bathroom, turned on the light, and quickly locked the door behind him. The bathroom was very compact, it had a black and red checkered tiled floor, which was the same throughout the entire restaurant, and the walls were built from grey bricks. There was very little room to maneuver in. All that was in the bathroom was a white ceramic toilet against the back wall and a small metal wash sink with a circular mirror hanging above.

Ian pulled his backpack off and removed his work shirt from it. He brought his work clothes with him to school when he had to work afterwards. He began to take his own shirt off, straining when he pulled it over his head from the injuries he received earlier. He looked in to the mirror at his face and rubbed it lightly. He could see the beginnings of a dark bruise forming along his jaw line. He placed red work shirt on which had a small emblem on the front along with the name of the place. He tucked the shirt into his shorts. There was a small knock on the door.

"Come on Ian, hurry it up." Vanessa spoke from outside.

He quickly turned on the facet of the sink, bent over, and splashed some cool water on his face. It felt refreshing and helped him to relax some. He then took his hat from his backpack and placed it on his head. He left the bathroom and placed his pack in the break room near the backdoor. He went to punch in at the clock by the manager's office, it was almost three thirty, and he then made his way to the kitchen to begin work.

There were two others in the kitchen along with him while he worked. Tonight it was Kira and Anthony. Kira was in charge of rolling the dough and forming it onto the pans. She was quite attractive with her slim body, short blonde hair, and captivating blue eyes. She was nineteen and going to ASU studying business management. She was working here as a means to hopefully work her way to management so she would be able to put the experience on her resume some day after she graduated. Anthony was a tall gangly teen with sandy colored shaggy hair, had an annoying voice, and who also went to Ian's school. His job was to placed the pizzas through the oven's conveyer and take them out when they were finished. The three of them had worked together many times before and they all developed their own special rapport with one another.

"Hey guys, ready for the weekend?" Ian said as he entered the kitchen.

They both gave responses of excitement even though it was likely they'd have to work at some point during it.

It wasn't until a little after five when business finally picked up. The dining room filled considerably and the voices of families flowed back through the kitchen. Ian and the two others worked frantically, doing their best to keep up with the demand needed of them. Vanessa would come back and check on them every so often. She left pleased how well they kept up with the work.

Ian would pause sometimes to glance at his hands, making sure that whatever it was he could do was kept hidden. He actually felt a little hopeful. If he could keep this a secret and prevent himself doing it, he might be able to remain unknown. He could try to play off what had happened at school as some kind of accident, or maybe he would be able to convince his mother to move once he graduated. These seemed like unlikely scenarios though. How could you keep something secret that you couldn't control.

Apparently, this was one time he stared at his hands for too long. Kira came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaving the remnants of flour behind. The touch startled him and caused him to flinch.

"You alright Ian?" She looked around him down to his hands as if maybe he had cut a finger or something else.

"Yes, I'm ok." He said softly and quickly put his hands flat on the table. "I just have a lot on my mind. You know, with finals coming up and all."

Kira smiled wide. "Yeah, I share your worry. Mine are in two weeks. Just study well and you'll do fine."

"Thanks Kira." He shot her a reassuring smile. She spun around and returned to her work. If only she knew what he was really fretting over, she probably wouldn't have been so nice. Anthony had paid no attention to their conversation as he was busying himself pulling readied pizzas from the other side of the oven.

When the clock reached seven thirty, another employee had come in to replace Ian at his station. Vanessa asked him to round up all the garbage in the restaurant from the dinning room and kitchen, take it outside, and then he would be free for the rest of the evening. Excited about the prospect of going home a little early, he quickly did as he was asked. He first emptied the cans in the dinning room and took it outside. He kept the backdoor propped open with a broom handle while doing so. He came back inside and began to gather the kitchen's trash when he heard his name said from the front counter. Worried, he slowly moved over to the wall near the door to the dining room to listen.

"Yes, Ian Reed works here. You two are who, and what do you want with him?" Vanessa voice trailed into the back.

A male voice spoke next. "I'm detective Ferguson, this is detective Steadman, and we're with the Mesa Police Department."

Ian's eyes widened and he carefully glanced around the wall through the doorway. He saw two suited, well composed men on the other side of the counter with badges in hand. He quickly brought his head back. His body told him to flee, but he was curious to hear more, so he remained.

"There was an incident at his school today, someone was hurt. We just want to take Ian down to our precinct to ask him some questions about it. He might be an eye witness to what occurred."

Ian knew they weren't being entirely truthful to Vanessa about the last part. Ian wasn't just an eye witness, but the one that was involved in it.

"Alright, I don't want to him to get into more trouble, he's in the back. Let me go get him for you."

Ian was terrified. If he went with these two detectives, they would eventually get the truth out of him. He couldn't explain it any other way. Who knows where he would end up, jail, prison, or some research laboratory? He quickly sprinted towards the back door and grabbed his backpack from the break room along the way. He heard Kira say something to him, but he didn't comprehend what it was. He pushed opened the back door violently and went over to his bike. The last light of the day was fading from the sky and the temperature had cooled considerably. He fumbled in his pocket for his keys and undid the lock. He then rode off as fast as his legs could muster.

Ian eventually made it to the apartment complex he lived in. It was composed of two storied stucco textured buildings, painted eggshell white with teal trim, and it held a couple hundred units. The apartment he and his mother lived in was on the first floor. Ian rode his bike all the way up to the front door. He got off his bike, letting it fall to the ground, and quickly unlocked the black security screen door, and then the wooden door behind it. He left his bike outside and went it closing the door behind him. It was only a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment. His mother got the bedroom while Ian took the couch. The place was especially warm and dark, except for some dim light emitting from the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. His mother must be readying herself for work. She had a rule to leave most of the lights off unless they were absolutely needed, so they could save on the utilities bill.

Ian went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He drank its contents fully and set the empty bottle on the counter. He went over to the couch in the living room and sat down. It was an old one and smelled very musty. He contemplated about what he should do while the breeze of the ceiling fan coursed around him. Ian figured, once the detectives realized that he had left the restaurant, that they'd come looking for him here. He couldn't very well stay here, or even go to his friend Tony's house. They would probably track him down there as well.

Ian was lost in thought, staring at nothing in particular in the room, when the light came on next to him. He looked over to by the kitchen. His mother was standing next to the light switch, giving him a rather stern look with her arms crossed over in front of her. She had a small round face, green eyes and long auburn hair that fell down to the middle of her back. Her hair was the same shade as Ian's. She was wearing black shoes, a turquoise skirt and vest, with a white blouse underneath. It was her hotel uniform.

"Well Ian?" She said coldly.

"Well what?" He asked innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me. Did you know the police were here looking for you?" She paused for a moment waiting for a response, but Ian remained silent. "They told me you involved in a fight at school and that you hurt someone. How many times have I told you that you shouldn't bully people?"

"What! I was defending myself! That stupid jock was the playing the part of bully. I didn't want him to get hurt. It was his stu-" Ian was blurting all this out before he realized he was doing so.

His mother raised her voice over his. "I don't want to hear your excuses Ian! They told me from some injury that the boy suffered, he is now fully paralyzed. Do you know that means? His parents are mostly likely going to sue me because you were thinking with your fists instead of your brain! All of this had to fall in my lap, just when I had finally almost saved enough for us to finally move into someplace bigger." She said the last part more to herself than Ian.

Ian got up from the couch, exhaled, and held his arms loosely by his sides. "Look mom, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He thought it best to tell the truth, she would have more sympathy if she understood what really occurred. He took a deep breath before he continued on. "Look, something happened when I pushed Aaron at school today. Some kind of weird energy came out of my hands. There was this strange feeling as well, and next thing I knew was that Aaron was lying on the ground."

His mother stood there with puzzlement strewn across her face. "Really Ian? Have you been doing drugs recently? What is this crap you're going on about?"

"Please listen. I'm telling you what really happened. I think I may be one of those people who are affected by something in their bodies. Like the ones that have been on the news sometimes, the mutants. I didn't have any choice in the matter and I don't have any command over it. Why won't you believe me?"

His mother looked furious and stood there silently. "I have no idea what you're talking about and I really don't have time for this." Her eyes looked saddened. "I need to get to work. I'm going to call the number on the card the detectives left me, and you are going to wait here till they arrive." She began to walk over to the small table where they phone sat.

Ian was devastated. His own mother didn't believe him or about the strange things he was going through. He couldn't turn himself in to the police just for being different. He knew he'd have to run. He walked over quickly next to his mom. Her hand was curled around the phone. Intense mixture of feelings rushed through him. "No, don't call them!" Ian placed his hand upon hers and pulled to prevent her from dialing. That all too familiar cooling feeling swelled in his hand and bright purple light shone throughout the room. Ian tried to pull his hand away once he realized what has happening.

It was too late however, Ian's mother cried out, the phone clattered down to the floor, and she pulled her hand away quickly. Ian turned to look at her. She held her right arm with the left closely to her stomach. She stared back at him with terror, her mouth was gaped open. "What did you do? I can't feel or move my arm!" She took a few small steps backwards. "So its true, you're a- You are just like he was."

Ian was confused, scared, and curious all at the same time. "Just like who was? My father?"

His mother didn't answer him. "Just get out of here and don't come back!" She screamed to him and ran off to her room locking it behind her.

Ian sprinted to follow. He pounded on the door a few times protesting to be let in, but quickly gave up. He leaned against the door and spoke just loud enough for her to hear him. "I'm sorry for what happened. I wish I could make it all go away. I will love you always." He could hear muffled sobs through the door.

Ian walked slowly back to the living room, found a small black duffel bag, and began to pack up what little belongings he owned. After he finished, he took one last glance at the small apartment that had been his home for so many years, and left, locking the door behind him. Ian took to his bike with the duffel bag crossed over his shoulder. He made off towards the closest bus station. It was only about five miles away, north from his home. He had been there a few times before when he took trips to visit his grandparents in California. His eyes were tearing severely while he peddled away.

When Ian arrived at the large grey bricked structure, he got off his bike and looked around the front of the bus station. He glanced down to his wristwatch, it was a little after nine. Night had finally come, darkness enveloped the sky, and the stars were beginning to sprout out from the heavens. Nothing seemed out of ordinary in front of the station, no police officers were posted anywhere that he could see. Just moments before, Ian had almost been clipped by a passing taxi as he tried to cross the street. His mind was elsewhere and he wasn't paying attention when he entered the road. It clearly was Ian's fault, and the taxi driver made sure he knew it was by screaming curses as they sped off.

There was a homeless man that had wild bushy grey hair and beard to match who was sitting against one of the outer walls of the station. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, and it looked as if he was dozing off. Ian made his way over to him with his bike. He put the kick stand down and put it neart the wall. Ian nudged the man's leg with his boot. The man stirred, opened his grey eyes, and looked up to Ian.

"This bike is yours now." Ian said while he gestured with his hand and tossed the key to the bike lock onto the man's chest.

The man responded groggily and very slowly. "What, a bike? What the hell am I going to do with that?"

Ian shook his head and began to move towards the entrance. "Whatever you want man, use it, sell it, or leave it. I won't need it anymore." Ian called over his shoulder as he walked.

The homeless man shrugged, pulled the bike closer to him, and placed the key in his pants pocket. He then adjusted himself and went back to sleep.

Ian pushed open and walked through the large wooden door of the station. The floor was composed of lightly colored stone tiles and the walls were painted a pale brown color. He saw where the ticket booths were located near the back. Of the four they had, only one was open. Behind the glass sat a pale, overweight man with his chin resting upon his palm. He seemed rather bored to be here. He looked as if he was staring at customers that were lounging around. Perhaps he envied them, for they were about to leave the state to vacation somewhere, or possibly visit family. Or perhaps he loathed them, since they had to come here late at night to bother him with their ridiculous questions and to buy tickets. Ian thought it best to avoid this man. He didn't want to answer any prying questions that might be asked of him, since he was traveling alone and looked to be under eighteen.

Ian located a silver cylinder shaped information kiosk. A small touch screen monitor was embedded within it. He navigated through the menus to see which, if any, of the buses that would be departing tonight. He didn't want to risk staying in Arizona any longer than necessary. The police most likely soon would be spreading his photo and description out to neighboring cities and counties.

Ian found three buses that were leaving before midnight. They were going to Florida, Minnesota, and Colorado. He checked the price of each ticket. He didn't have much money to his name, and wanted to make sure he had enough to buy food and other necessities when he got there. Luckily, he always dealt with cash and never electronic means that could easily be tracked. He decided on Denver, Colorado, it wasn't too pricey. It also allowed distance for things to cool down and give him time to plan out his next course of action. For the ticket he was asked to enter his name. It was unlikely that he would be asked for verification this late at night, so he entered a false name, Timothy Carrier, a character in a book he had read recently. He entered his money into a bill reader on the front of the kiosk. His ticket printed and shot out of a small slot next to the bill reader.

Ian picked up the ticket and walked with his bag to an unoccupied bench. There were several crumpled papers on it, but he brushed them off onto the floor. He looked over the ticket in his hand. He had some time to kill before his bus left at eleven. He brought his duffel bag up on the bench next to him. It was still hard for Ian to believe, that a little more than six hours ago he had been your everyday normal teenager who was readying himself to graduate high school, and head off to college. Nothing in his life would ever be the same again. Ian passed the time by studying the other people who were waiting along with him, pretending they were all part of a murder mystery in which he was to solve as the detective. A game he used to play with his mother when he was younger.


	3. The Man With Glasses

"_**I know well what I am fleeing from but not what I am in search of."**_

**-Michel de Montaigne**

As Ian sat waiting for his bus to arrive so that he could finally be on his way, a thought passed through his mind. He looked down to himself realizing he was still wearing his work clothes from earlier. He had forgotten to change. He didn't want to stand out in anyone's mind as wearing them, so he grabbed his bag and made his way quickly to a restroom. As he entered the restroom the smell of stale urine rushed to his nostrils immediately. Disgusted, he did his best to breathe through his mouth while he progressed further in. The restroom was unoccupied at the moment. It had two urinals and three stalls to it. The lighting was dim and it reflected poorly off the appalling green tiles along the wall. The floor was composed of stained yellowing tiles that must have been a shade of white at some point. There was also an assortment of different sized paper towel scraps that littered the floor.

Ian went into the middle stall. He went through his bag and pulled out a pair of worn jeans with frayed pant legs and a faded navy blue shirt. The shirt had some caricature of a yellow and red spotted mushroom that had a face and two feet. It also had a fifties style nuclear bomb crashing atop its head. He figured it might be cooler in Colorado so he also pulled out a grey long sleeved thermal shirt. He dressed into the clothes, pulling the thermal sleeves up to his elbows, and then made his way to the sink with bag in hand. He washed his face and did his best to tidy his hair. He usually kept his medium length auburn hair parted down the middle, letting it rest on the sides of his face. Sometimes his bangs would fall to block his solid brown eyes which he would have to readjust every so often.

Ian then looked to the bruise on his jaw. It was a darker purple now and it was becoming very sore. Ian brought his hand up to it and started to rub it slowly. It was then his hand released his power. Shocked, Ian quickly pulled it away. His hand cascaded with that same bright purple energy as before. He quickly looked around to make sure that no one else had entered the restroom with him. There was no one present. He quickly looked back to his hand and concentrated upon it. He put all his thought into it to will the energy back into his hand. After a few moments it finally slowly receded back into the central area of his palm.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief and was about to exit the restroom when he stopped abruptly realizing something. He looked back into the mirror. The bruise was still evident on his face, but there was no more pain to it. He poked it a few times with a finger to prove this. Thoughts began to pour over quickly in his mind. His power had the ability to paralyze others and numb pain to himself. Or perhaps if he concentrated enough, he could numb pain of others as well. As he was contemplating this, an automotive voice began to speak through a speaker that Ian couldn't see.

"_The bus for schedule 1-5-3-7 to Denver, Colorado with one transfer in Albuquerque, New Mexico has arrived. It will begin to board shortly and depart at eleven p.m. Please have ticket in hand when you board. Thank you for choosing Sonoran Bus Lines and have a pleasant trip."_

Ian looked to his black digital watch. It was almost ten thirty. He quickly made his way from the restroom towards the bus gate. He stopped by a row of vending machines along the way and purchased two soft drinks, two bags of chips, a chocolate candy bar, and from the refrigerated machine, a turkey sandwich. He put them in his duffel bag quickly and located the proper gate. There weren't too many people in line waiting to board the bus which was a relief to Ian. It meant there were less people that could recall seeing him. The bus itself was lit up quite brightly and was painted a grey and midnight blue color. The company was only making those with larger bags check them. He would be able to keep his bag with him on the bus. A employee was next to the bus loading baggage into a side compartment.

After waiting for a few minutes, people finally made their way on to it. As Ian entered he gave his ticket to the driver who wore a great smile and had a neatly trimmed brown goatee. He didn't seem to pay Ian particular interest, not even to the bruise on his face. He was just another customer for the evening. The driver looked over his ticket a moment before he tore off the right side of it and handed back the stub.

Ian made his way towards the rear of the bus, a few rows in front of the restroom, and sat on the right side with an empty seat next to him. He still felt a little tense, half expecting the police to rush onto the bus to drag him away before it could leave. He looked over the ticket stub in his hand. The trip would take nineteen hours with a transfer and short layover in New Mexico. The bus filled considerably more before the time came for it to depart. The lights inside dimmed to a more restful hue and Ian finally relaxed as the bus pulled out from the station and made its way onto the darkened street.

Ian opened his bag to retrieve the food inside. He pulled the packaging off and began to eat ravenously at the turkey sandwich. He hadn't been able to eat anything since lunch earlier that day at school so he was quite hungry. He completely ate all the food he had bought and drank one of the sodas. He kept the other stored for later on. Once he was done eating he gazed out the window watching the city pass by. The roads only had minimal traffic on them. He sat silently mesmerized by the lights from street lamps and buildings whisking by. What seemed like ten minutes passed before bus was just making its way on to the freeway which would begin his trip towards Denver. He adjusted his body a little leaning his head back in the comfy leather seat and tried to get some rest from the eventful day that had occurred.

* * *

A very serious looking man wearing a close fitted black business suit glared angrily at a young curly haired stewardess that had passed him on the plane's aisle, pushing a cart loudly in front of her. Behind the suit's jacket, he wore a pearl white dress shirt with a violet tie. He had pale blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, which he always parted towards the right. The man also wore black thin framed glasses upon his clean shaven face. He was sitting in a large comfortable leather seat with his legs stretched out in front of him. He was busying himself scrolling over documents on the black and sliver ruggedized laptop which sat on the tray in front of him. The documents were of files containing detailed information on mutants of interest to the man.

"You'd think," he said irritably, "that being in business class they would realize the need for silence." The man wasn't thinking out loud, but was speaking to a man next to him.

"Well, I did offer you my seat sir." The other man said.

"Yes, I know you did Williams." The first man said flatly. "And you know very well I hate flying and can't stand a window seat."

Williams gave a grunt of agreement. He was wearing strange clothing for either a business trip or vacation. He had pair of heavy black boots, loose black pants, and he had a tucked in crimson red short sleeved shirt. They seemed like regular clothes to normal eyes, but if one gave a closer inspection, they would find they had a strange elastic quality to them and were made of a special material known only to a few. Williams was a very large muscular man with broad shoulders and light skin. His dirty blonde hair was cut short and was faded. His bright green eyes were the only thing that showed any emotion upon his rigid face.

"Do you think he'll actually join though?" Williams asked as he turned his head to his left. "The price just for his whereabouts was quite expensive." He added.

The first man adjusted his glasses some and stared intently on the screen in front of him. He didn't answer for a few moments, which Williams seemed used to.

"Oh yes, I think he will, especially with this bit of information." The man said, and pointed to a portion of the screen.

Williams looked over and read what was there. He then gave a short laugh.

"That should work." He said with enthusiasm.

"_Attention, this is Captain Roberts speaking. I just wanted to inform you that we will be landing on time within an hour at Kahului's airport on Maui. Local time is three twenty-five a.m. The weather forecast for later today is sunny with some overcast of clouds. The temperature's high will be a warm eighty four degrees. Please sit back and enjoy the rest of the flight. Thank you for choosing to fly with us and have a relaxing time once you reach your final destination."_

"Hardly." The man in glasses said responding to the last part of the message.

When he was finished utilizing the documents he turned off the laptop and placed it in a small bag by his feet. He sat silently for the remainder of the flight staring forward and thinking about how the conversation would go once he had arrived.

Once the plane landed, Williams grabbed both of their carry on baggage. The man with glasses wouldn't bother himself to such things. If a passerby were to study the man on the way he was dressed and his demeanor towards others, they might conclude that he was a very important person, or a child that had been born with a silver spoon within his mouth. They would be correct on both assumptions though. He came from a family of wealth and usually wherever he traveled he instilled fear to others and was given respect. They both made their way through the gate towards the terminal.

There was only one terminal for the small airport. A light breeze flowed through the openness of the building. It was designed with a lot of wooden beams and walls and it had an island theme to it. They both made their way through the deserted airport, downstairs, and eventually to the front of the airport. It was very dark outside and minimal noise was emitting from the surrounding city. The man with glasses turned towards Williams and stared at him waiting for him to speak.

"Arrangements had been made earlier for a rental. I'll go check inside to see where it's located." Williams finally said after a moment and placed their luggage on the ground. He turned and went back into the airport to speak with someone. His large muscular build and tallness drew the looks of some others who were exiting the airport. Williams seemed to not notice this however as he walked quickly passed them.

About ten minutes passed as the man with glasses stood waiting patiently for Williams to return. He had been watching others from his flight as they made their way towards awaiting taxis. He saw families with young kids running around their parent's legs. He himself was in his late thirties. He was married to a younger woman who lived back in New York with their five year old son. He hardly ever saw them. His secretive work usually kept him busy throughout the year. About twice a year however, he would visit them for a week, and it never was around the family holidays.

Williams came into view driving a silver luxury four door sedan. He stopped by the curb in front of the man with glasses and quickly got out. He went around the car, opened the back door, and then placed their bags in the trunk. He closed the door once the man with glasses was inside and returned to the driver's seat. Then the car drove away from the airport.

The car arrived later near a shopping district along a road named Front Street in a little town called Lahaina near the north west part of the island. Small bright colorful buildings ran along each side of the street which consisted of tourist shops, art galleries, and restaurants. To the left of the car was a very large intricate tree which must have been sixty feet high and had twelve different trunks to it. The area around them was empty of people and everything looked closed. It was about five thirty in the morning. They had stopped earlier at a store to buy some bottled water and fresh fruit for the man with glasses. The sun was just beginning to show itself from over the volcanic mountain near the central part of the island they were on. Williams turned the car left onto a small street that branched from Front Street which led to a harbor. He pulled the vehicle into a parallel parking spot in front of a small business that sold homemade ice cream and cookies and then got out.

The man with glasses exited the car as Williams held the door open for him. He adjusted his jacket some once he was out. The air was already warming up and was causing him some discomfort. Williams closed the door and they walked towards where the boats were tied to the dock. Once they located the boat they were looking for and saw the man they were here for, they paused. They were still about twenty feet from the person.

"Do you want me by your side while the two of you talk?" Williams asked.

The man with glasses furrowed his brow thinking. "No." he said slowly. "If he wants to kill me, there certainly would be nothing you or I could do to stop him. Just wait here. I don't want to alarm him too much."

The man with glasses walked slowly to the boat so he could approach the man. The man on the boat was tall and athletically built. He had tanned light skin with short brown buzzed cut hair. His eyes were hazel and he had a slanted jaw with stubble growing along his face. He was shirtless, wore khaki shorts, and was also shoeless. He was crouched down on a decent sized two leveled sliver and blue painted boat. It was called _The Silver Queen_, which was painted on the aft of it. He had a socket wrench in hand was peering down into a section that was opened up on the deck.

The man with glasses walked onto a small ramp which allowed him access to the boat. He walked to the front of the man and stood, staying about three feet away.

The man on the boat had heard his approach and without looking up from his mechanical repair he spoke. "The morning cruise doesn't leave till seven. You're welcome to wait at our offices on Front Street. There is breakfast and coffee I'm told." The man's voice sounded low and was without emotion.

The man with glasses gave a small smile. He looked behind the crouched man to a sign that read, 'With Captain V, you'll see the most humpback whales, dolphins, and the best snorkeling spots than any other boat on Maui, guaranteed!'

"So Vincent, is this how you use your abilities these days?" He said with smugness.

The crouching man looked up quickly. He narrowed his eyes to the man with glasses and stared studying him.

"Or do you prefer Vince?" He added.

"Vincent works." He then looked back down, grabbed a screwdriver from a small red tool box next to him, and began using it in the opening. "What do you want?

"Well, I have a proposal for you. I'm in the process of assembling a group of unique individuals to come and work for me."

"Mutants you mean?" Vincent interrupted.

Trent acted like he said nothing and continued on. "A man of your talent would fit in quite nicely." The man with glasses said this while he looked down to his right hand in front of him and rubbed his thumb against two of his fingers. "You might recall working under my grandfather long ago."

The last statement shouldn't have seemed out of the ordinary, except for the fact that Vincent looked barely a day over thirty-three. A side effect of his power was that the cells in his body could regenerate quickly from injury and also made him appear quite young. Not even Trent was sure what his true age was.

"Yes…I know you're a Trent. Not interested." Vincent responded without looking up.

Trent, as he liked to be called, had known that one of Vincent's abilities included him to see the life force of all living things as auras, but he didn't know that he could determine the descendants of others he had met before. Abruptly, a digital beeping tone emitted from inside his jacket. A look of anger grew across his face. "Excuse me a moment will you?" Trent asked as he pulled out his cell phone.

Vincent gave no response and continued to work. From the opening on the deck, he took out a small dirtied silver cylindrical item with wires hanging off of it. He pulled a grease stained towel from his back pocket and began to clean the object. He couldn't help but overhear the conversation though.

Trent turned with his back to Vincent and answered the phone furiously. "Trent speaking, and this better be important!" A few moments passed while the other end spoke. "Really?...Ian Reed huh?" His voice was calmer now. "When did this happen?...Where is he now?...Do you know where he is heading?...Denver? Good, send a surveillance team to follow the bus. Make sure he doesn't elude the team and buy a new ticket at the transfer city. And tell them to do their best to go unnoticed. I shall personally see him myself within forty eight hours. I'll call back later. Don't lose track of him!" He ended the call and placed the phone back within his jacket.

"Problem?" Vincent asked with no real interest.

Trent turned back around, gestured his hand non-caringly and shook his head. "No problem, just someone else who I now have an interest in. So, back to you Vincent. I would require your services at most for two years. It pays very well I assure you." Trent took a moment to look around in disgust of Vincent's working conditions.

"My mind is already made up. Please don't slip on your way off my boat."

"Are you absolutely sure? You see, I've heard about the grave news to your daughter." Trent watched as Vincent paused and his eyes grew wide with shock. "She has a rare genetic disease if I'm not mistaken and will require a heart transplant that her insurance won't pay for due to some technicality. Now, you wouldn't want to leave all your grandchildren motherless would you? Agree to work with me for the time I have stated and I will make sure she receives the best care. I will also take care of all the expenses of the operation. I will even include using my influence to move her up the transplant list." He stood smiling wide and took a small silver rectangular case from his other jacket pocket. He opened it up, took something out, and passed it to Vincent.

Vincent took it more out of reaction than actually wanting to. He looked it over. It was a white business card that had a thin black lined border about an eighth of an inch inwards from the edge. Printed near the top centered in black were the words, _Charcoal Rain – Private Military Corporation_. Underneath it read, _Nathan Trent, CEO_. Further underneath that was a phone number and below it was written, _"Creating a more tolerant future."_

"Charcoal Rain? Is that supposed to symbolize an inevitable apocalypse or something? And you also put a more tolerant future? It's a nice thought but I doubt that it will ever be possible between our kinds."

Trent did his best to ignore the comments. "Please consider it Vincent. I must leave now. I have a pair of twins to visit on Kauai. Apparently they caused the entire island to have amnesia for a short while, very interesting." Trent then turned and left the boat walking away slowly down the dock towards Williams.

"I won't use my power to kill for you, or anyone else again." Vincent called out to him.

Trent turned his head to the side and spoke loud enough to be heard. "And I'm not asking you to. Your other abilities and skills are more than enough for what I need. Please…think it over." Trent picked his pace up some. A sinister smile appeared on his face, he knew he'd convinced him.

Vincent watched as Trent walked over to where a large muscular man was standing. He could tell by his aura that he was a mutant. The pair exchanged conversation and then made their way back to a silver car. Vincent looked down to the card in hand. He immediately crumpled it up and was planning to throw it in the harbor. Just as he was about to, he thought of his daughter. Her beautiful mother that he had met a few decades back had passed away from the same heart condition. He had seen it in her aura, but didn't know what it was at the time, until she got sick. It was then he realized his daughter had the same genetic disease as her mother. It was one of the reasons he fled when she was young, leaving her to live with her aunt. He couldn't bear to watch her become sick and lose another love again. He sighed greatly and unfolded the card with both his hands. He put it in the pocket of his shorts, and began to finish his work to the boat.

* * *

**A/N: Updates to this story might be a little slow from now on. I'm focusing more on my other story of which I want to finish by the beginning of October. Please feel free to subscribe to this one if you are enjoying it. Thank you. **


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